The polyphony of my thoughts against the clicking of a clock,
Seeing someone's eyes in a daydream,
Losing it all,
Missing parts of the scheme.
Perversions written on streets,
On walls,
Embedded into the back seats of cars.
No one mentions the convoluted,
Overwhelming
Sickly sweetness.
People will write about dead animals on the pavement,
It's something so sinister.
Hard to imagine the beauty they find
On dark walks to the grocery store.
Are we all too far gone?
Obtaining art from the voiceless?
Two women cheerfully embrace in the middle of a crosswalk.
These encounters juxtapose,
The snot dripping from my nose
I wipe clean with a sweater sleeve.
Then I find myself back in soft obscurity.
Recognizing those same primal beats,
The pattern repeats.
The putrid scent of the human body, contrasting the overbearing stench of others' perfume.
We all avoid the schizophrenic,
But I feel no better than with glitter on my eyelids.
I'm faced with the reflection of all that I lack,
Only to feel foolish when I break from the abstract.
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